The Room Is On Fire (Invisible Smoke)
by WinterSky101
Summary: The bookshop is burning, and Crowley can't find Aziraphale. He can hear him, though.


**Title is from "The Archer" by Taylor Swift.**

* * *

The bookshop is burning, and Crowley can't find Aziraphale.

"Aziraphale!" he screams. "Aziraphale, where the Heaven are you, you idiot? I can't find you!"

And then, just faintly, he hears a response: "Crowley!"

"Aziraphale!" he yells as loudly as he can. The flames are crackling loudly, but if he's loud enough… "Aziraphale!"

"Crowley!" he hears again. "Crowley!"

"Where are you?" Crowley screams. He can hear Aziraphale, but he can't see him, and the bookshop is still burning around him. "Aziraphale!"

"Crowley, help me!"

"I'm trying!" Crowley cries. "I'm trying, angel, where _are_ you?"

The back room, when he manages to fight his way to it, is empty. "Are you here?" he yells, just in case. He wasn't in the front, and he's not in the back... Could Aziraphale be in the flat above his shop? He rarely goes up there - it's really just more book storage, to be perfectly honest - but maybe, maybe…

"Crowley!"

"Aziraphale, where are you?" Crowley begs. "Where the Heaven are you?"

And then he hears something worse than Aziraphale's panicked cries, because he hears Aziraphale _scream_. It's the sort of scream Crowley knows, the sort of scream he remembers, because it's the sort of scream he let out when he Fell into a pit of hellfire. But Aziraphale… Aziraphale hasn't Fallen. Aziraphale is an angel. Aziraphale is an angel, burning in hellfire.

Aziraphale is dying.

"Aziraphale!" Crowley screams, tearing his way through the bookshop to the stairs that lead to the flat. "Aziraphale, where are you? Tell me where you are!"

But Aziraphale is just screaming, and Crowley wants to scream too, wants to make a noise just as agonized because burning in hellfire was nothing compared to hearing Aziraphale burn-

"Crowley!" he hears, and his hear leaps. If Aziraphale is able to speak, then maybe the hellfire isn't too bad yet, maybe he can make it-

"Aziraphale!"

"Crowley! Crowley, wake _up_!"

And Crowley does.

He's still in the bookshop, but it's not burning now, everything is back to normal. He's lying on the couch in the flame-free back room, and Aziraphale is staring down at him with wide eyes.

"Oh, thank goodness," he says when Crowley's eyes finally fix on him. "You were screaming so terribly, and I was trying to wake you up but you couldn't seem to hear me, and- Oh!"

Crowley flings himself forward, wrapping himself around Aziraphale like the snake he is, trying to bury himself deep within Aziraphale until he's able to wrap himself around his very soul. He can feel him, he can feel his presence, and Crowley basks in it, basks in the smell of old books and wine and _Aziraphale_ instead of the smell of everything he loves turning to ash.

"Crowley, my dear, are you alright?" Aziraphale asks faintly. He wraps his arms around Crowley in turn and Crowley nestles even further into the embrace, twisting himself around Aziraphale so tightly it's a wonder either of them can still breathe.

"Nightmare," Crowley forces out, because he's been screaming on Aziraphale's couch and now he's having a bit of a breakdown in his arms and Aziraphale deserves at least something of an explanation. "Fire."

"Oh," Aziraphale breathes. He's always been good at reading Crowley, always been too clever by half, and he can put together the pieces that Crowley's scattered out for him. "Oh, my _dear_."

"Couldn't find you," Crowley mumbles. He doesn't think it's physically possible for him to be any closer to Aziraphale than he already is, but that's not stopping him from trying.

"Oh, Crowley," Aziraphale sighs. "I'm so terribly sorry-"

"Don't apologize," Crowley hisses. "Not your fault." Crowley does blame a multitude of people for the bookshop burning, including Shadwell, all of Heaven, and the Almighty Herself, but he doesn't blame Aziraphale. He could never blame Aziraphale for anything.

"Alright," Aziraphale agrees. Crowley must have really worried him if he's agreeing so easily. "Alright, my dear. Do you want to go back to sleep, or-"

Crowley shakes his head vigorously against the side of Aziraphale's neck. If he goes back to sleep, he knows he'll see the bookshop burning again, and he can't stand the thought. Living through it once was more than enough. He can't relive it every time he sleeps.

"Very well," Aziraphale says gently. "Shall I read to you, then? I'm reading a very clever book that Adam added to my collection, about a young boy named Harry. I believe he can do magic."

Crowley still can't quite bring himself to move away from Aziraphale, but he nods and hopes Aziraphale can feel it. He must be able to, because a moment later, the sound of Aziraphale's voice fills the room. The boy Harry is at the zoo, and he's about to start talking to a snake.

Somewhere between Harry vanishing the glass to free the snake and his uncle punishing him for it, Crowley drifts back to sleep, still wrapped up in Aziraphale's arms. No nightmares threaten him for the rest of the night. They wouldn't dare. He's got an angel watching over him, after all, and that angel is going to do everything in his power to make sure his demon never screams like that again.

Crowley sleeps, Aziraphale watches, and the stars twinkle brightly over a bookshop that will never burn again.


End file.
